


Santa Fe

by writetheniteaway



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, F/M, santa fe feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-16
Updated: 2013-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-29 13:50:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1006190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writetheniteaway/pseuds/writetheniteaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack doesn't give up on Santa Fe, he asks Katherine to go with him</p>
            </blockquote>





	Santa Fe

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the tumblr fic swap!! Feedback GREATLY appreciated

The streets buzzed.  Shouting people, clanging trolleys, barking dogs, it was enough to make a guy’s head spin. New York was crowded, and dirty, and it was sucking the life out of Jack Kelly, he could feel it.

He trudged home to the small apartment that he and Katherine rented, shoulders sagging with the weight of another day of work, and the prospect of another sleepless night from the noise of street that permeated the two thin walls.

“Hey.” Katherine mumbled from her typewriter, too busy to do more than acknowledge him as he walked in.

“Hey.” He muttered in reply, too tired to start an argument with her. He helped himself to lukewarm coffee from the stove and sat , across from her, muscles sore.

“Gonna be up late tonight?” He asks, hoping the answer is no.

“Probably.” She clicks in tandem with her keys.

“Course ya are.” He groans, resting his forehead against his coffee mug.

“Don’t start with me.” She warns him. “I don’t have time to nurse your ego tonight.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” He downed his coffee in one sip, wincing at the bitter taste. He dropped the empty mug in the sink and left her hard at work in the kitchen for the solitude of the bedroom. He kicked off his boots and unbutton his shirt. He flung himself on the bed and pressed his palms tight against his eyes, waiting until it hurt to stop. He turned onto his stomach and threw a pillow over his head, groaning into the mattress, angry at everything and nothing all at the same time.

A few moments passed before he forced himself up. It was too early to sleep, especially if Katherine was spending the night with her work instead of him again. Damn the papers that never stopped circulating, damn the city that never slept.  

He tried to paint and couldn’t match his colors to what had dried over night. He went to sketch but all that he could manage passably were gloomy citizens and rainy scenes. He couldn’t take it any longer.

He grabbed his most recent works, the ones that mirrored the horrors outside his own door and pulled a matchbook from drawer of the nightstand.

“Be on the roof.” He barreled through the kitchen and out the door before she could even ask what he was doing. He pounded up the stairs, slamming the door behind him, the echo masked by the noise of the damned city street four stories below. He shredded anything he’d ever drawn of the New York skyline, and crammed the pieces into an empty can. He struck two matches before one caught and he dropped it unceremoniously into the paper and watched his work go up in flame.

He stared at the fire, refusing to look out across the sky. He didn’t want to be here any longer. He’d stayed for his friends, and most of them had grown up and gone away. To rot in factories or fight in a war nobody wanted and now all that was left was he and Katherine and the apartment that felt more like a cage every second.  

“Jack?” Katherine called from the top of the stairs, her skirt gathered in her hand. “Are you alright?”

He ignored her, eyes fixed on the fizzling flame.

“Jack?” She sat beside him against the wall, hesitantly reaching for his hand which he didn’t pull away. It wasn’t her fault he hated this place, hell she was the only good thing left about it. “What’s wrong?” She asks softly.

“Can’t do this no more.” He replies. “I’m goin’ crazy.”

“Can’t do what?” She prompts him, reaching up run her hand through the hair at his neck.

He leans into her touch, resting his head against her chest. “Can’t stand it here. It’s killin’ me. Always swore I wouldn’t let this damn city get me an’ now-“

“You still want Santa Fe, don’t you?” She isn’t accusing, just beginning to understand. H doesn’t reply, just leans closer against her, putting most of his weight against her.

“I meant it, you know.” She tells him.

“Meant what?”

“That wherever you go, I’ll be there, right by your side. And if that means Santa Fe, then I’ll go start packing.” 

“We could go. You an’ me, just get on a train and start over. You wouldn’t mind it? For sure?” He sits up, hope in his eyes for the first time in months.

“For sure.” She promises him without a second’s hesitation. “All you have to do is ask, and we can be anywhere you want.”

“Let’s go. Let’s get outta this damn place. You’ll love it there, the warmth, the sun-“

“Of course I’ll love it there.” She shushes him. “I’m going to be with you.”


End file.
